


Where Dirk Is Good At A Great Many Things Vaguely Involving Athleticism, No, Really, He Swears

by cosmicocean



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, like very pre slash y'all, pretty much pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicocean/pseuds/cosmicocean
Summary: “Dirk won’t stop telling me he’s good at stuff.”Amanda gives him a look. “Ooooooooookay?”Where Dirk seems to find it important to tell Todd of his general capabilities.





	Where Dirk Is Good At A Great Many Things Vaguely Involving Athleticism, No, Really, He Swears

**Author's Note:**

> WHO'S READY FOR A COMPLETE LACK OF PLOT WITH TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF Y'ALL
> 
> The pre-slash is VERY pre-slash, it's only really alluded to a small amount.

“Todd,” Dirk says about a month after the Bergsberg/Wendimoor clusterfuck/case, apropos of nothing. “I’ve been thinking this over a lot, and I’ve decided that it’s very important to tell you, I want you to know, the earlier display with the scissors, back in Wendimoor, that was in no way emblematic of my swordfighting abilities,”

“Wh-“ Todd ducks. “ _What?_ ”

“Listen, I’m quite adept with a foil, I thought it was the same thing, but as it turns out scissors are a _lot_ heavier, and there are _two_ things to keep an eye on, not one-“

Todd jumps out of the way. “Dirk.”

“Really, I’m very good at it and I didn’t want you to be laboring under any misapprehensions about-“

“ _Dirk._ ”

“And honestly, I-“

“ _DIRK_ ,” Todd yells, diving to the floor as the giant they’re facing off against takes another swing. “ _IS THIS REALLY THE TIME?_ ”

“ _I’m just saying, Todd-_ “

“ _AND I’M JUST SAYING KEEP PULLING THOSE GODDAMN LEVERS SO YOU KNOW WHICH ONE CLOSES THE GODDAMN DRAWBRIDGE SO I DON’T FUCKING DIE, DIRK._ ”

“Ah. Yes. Right. Makes sense.” Dirk turns back to the levers.

 

“I’m banned from three bars in London for bar fights, you know,” he tells him while they’re investigating the body of a robot. Dirk’s literally poking it with a stick.

“Thought you said you’d never punched anyone before you punched me, Icarus,” Martin observes, squinting at the robot arm that looks kind of like a tentacle.

Dirk sniffs. “It was for shin-kicking.”

Todd blinks. “You got kicked out of three bars for shinkicking?”

“I have pointy feet! Look-“ Dirk kicks out at Todd. Todd yelps and dodges.

 

“I’ve beaten Thor in an arm wrestling match.”

Todd looks up from the possibly sentient flower (it’s definitely fucking cranky) he’s trying to persuade to open so they can get at the diamond ring it swallowed. “Thor.”

Dirk looks completely serious. “Yes.”

“The guy you keep saying is an actual, literal Norse god.”

“Correct.”

“The guy who you once told me has arms the size of Christmas hams.” The plant bites at Todd’s index finger. “Ow.”

“Yes, him.”

“And you beat him in an arm wrestling contest.” It nips at him again. “ _Ow._ ”

Dirk frowns. “I’m very strong.”

“Are you Thunder God strong?”

“Yes! I have terrific arm strength! Todd, look at my arms.”

“What? No. Give me the plant food, I didn’t think that was gonna work, but if this thing bites me again, I swear to God, I’m just gonna chop it in half _AND THEN INTO LITTLE TINY PIECES AND I’M GONNA STOMP ON THEM AND KICK THEM AND THIS PLANT IS NOT GONNA LIKE IT._ ” He might shout that last bit. He’s spent twenty minutes trying to get this plant with the very sharp petals to give him the ring. It deserves to be shouted at.

“I’ll give you the plant food if you agree that my arms are very strong and I could take Thor in an arm wrestling match, not just _could_ , in fact, but _did._ ”

“Dirk, this is for a _case_ , I don’t see _you_ fucking trying to get this thing open-“

“I’ll get it open if you-“

Todd grabs the pot that the plant’s in and wields the plant in his direction. The thing snaps at Dirk. He squeaks and skitters back.

“Give me the plant food,” he says, trying not to laugh at the way Dirk’s holding his hands close to his chest, firmly against his tie in between the opening of his bright yellow jacket. “Or Bitey is gonna use his newfound taste for human flesh on you, and I’m gonna encourage him.”

Dirk narrows his eyes at him. “You’re laughing.”

“I’m not.”

“Your chest is shaking.”

“Chest palpitations.”

“You don’t get those.”

“I could start.”

Dirk’s definitely having a hard time keeping the smile off his face. “That sounds like a threat. Are you threatening to have bad health at me? Shouldn’t you be threatening me with my bad health?”

“Cut me a break, I’m not good at threatening people.”

“Please, if experience has proved anything, it’s that you’re _very_ good at-“

Todd waves the flower again. Dirk screams and tosses the plant food in his general direction. Todd does laugh this time.

 

“I’m good at monkey bars,” Dirk mumbles.

Todd grins at Dirk. Dirk holds his liquor pretty well, but he’s drank more than Todd tonight and he’s a little tipsier than him. “Are you?”

Dirk nods from where he’s slumped against the bar, face somehow mashed up against both the wood and his tie with the tiny periwinkle flowers on it. “I can swing and everything.”

“How often d’you use monkey bars?”

Dirk raises his head enough to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Youuuuuu would be surprised.”

Todd grins wider. “C’mon. Let’s go back to the, the, building where we live.”

Todd’s not exactly steady on his feet either, but he’s steady enough that Dirk’s got an arm around his shoulder, all warm pressed up against his side. They wobble back together, shuffling along the sidewalk.

“You smell good,” Dirk mumbles. Todd feels his face heat up a little.

“Thanks.”

“Like sawdust and lake water.”

“…I don’t think I’ve been close to those recently, so I don’t know where you’re getting that from. Are you saying stuff just to say stuff again?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Dirk lolls his head into Todd’s. “Thank you for being nice to me.”

“Yesterday I threatened to drop kick you out the window of my apartment all the way back across the ocean.”

“You didn’t mean it, though. I think.”

Todd smiles. “I didn’t.”

“That’s good. Did I tell you about the monkey bars?”

“You did.”

“M’very athletic.”

“Monkey bars count as being athletic?”

Dirk frowns. “Don’t doubt me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Todd helps him up the stairs. Both of them lean back and forth a little, but they make it up to Todd’s apartment.

“I’m gonna go-“ Dirk gestures vaguely. “Thataway, the, the-“ he points upstairs. “The place where all my stuff is.”

Todd shakes his head. “You’re not climbing any more stairs, too much stairsing, you can just crash on my couch.”

“Mm’kay.”

Todd manages to get the door open and they stumble in the direction of their sleeping arrangements. It’s not the first time he’s slept on the couch, so Todd’s just started keeping his favorite blanket (fluffy and blue) and pillow (fluffy and green, Dirk’s very into fluffy as both a concept and an execution of said concept) under the coffee table. Dirk scrabbles underneath it, hauls them out, and settles himself in as Todd curls up under his own blankets.

“Thank you for letting me sleep at home tonight,” Dirk mumbles, and there’s something about that statement, but Todd’s already slipping into unconsciousness.

 

“Dirk won’t stop telling me he’s good at stuff.”

Amanda gives him a look. “Ooooooooookay?”

The ground Todd and Amanda stand on is weird sometimes. It’s bumpy and rocky and… other ground metaphors. But most of the time these days, it’s even enough. She comes over to his apartment whenever she’s in town. Usually she gets drawn into a case, but some of it’s just spent hanging out. Today is one of the latter days, the two of them sprawled over Todd’s couch drinking Capri Sun and heckling cooking shows.

“Just randomly. All this stuff, apropos of nothing.”

“I mean, that _is_ what random tends to mean, Todd.”

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Why is this such a bad thing?” Amanda drinks her juice pouch and tosses it in the direction of the trash can, missing magnificently.

“I don’t know that it’s a _bad_ thing, I just don’t know why he’s trying to chat himself up to me.”

Amanda waggles her eyebrows at him.

“No, stop that.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“You’re not, and you don’t have to.”

She waggles harder. Todd kicks her in the ankle and it all just sort of goes downhill from there.

 

Naturally, the Rowdy Three and Bart have just left from visiting, so when Dirk, Farah, Amanda, and Todd end up trapped in the mansion with a bunch of killer plant creatures that look like Triffids with arms wielding rough hewn swords, they’re on their own as they flee through the halls.

“ _WHY DON’T WE HAVE GUNS AGAIN?_ ” Todd bellows at Dirk as they take a corner sharply.

“ _BECAUSE FARAH WON’T LET US, SHE SAYS WE’RE A DANGER TO OURSELVES AND OTHERS._ ”

“ _DON’T PIN YOUR INEPTITUDE ON ME._ ”

“ _I HAVE A BIG STICK._ ”

“ _SEE, AMANDA HAS A BIG STICK, ALL IS NOT-_ “ Dirk slips on the smooth marble floor. Todd quickly grabs his arm, hand grappling with the red leather of his jacket, and hauls him upright.

They get to the brightly lit lobby of the mansion, but the doors are locked and the windows are barred. They spin to face the creatures as they advance. Dirk is looking desperately around the room. Todd feels him freeze next to him and when he looks, Dirk’s staring at a sword hanging on the wall over a nice table. Dirk breaks into a grin and dashes towards the wall, jumping on top of the table to grab the blade. It’s relatively skinny, looks pretty light. He seems to swing it around almost experimentally, and his grin widens.

“Oh, yes. That will do. That will _certainly_ do.”

“For-“

“En garde, you son of a bastard man!” Dirk lunges at one of the monsters in the front and instantly begins sparring with it. Todd opens his mouth to shout at him to watch out, but he’s surprisingly good, maneuvering with ease as Farah covers him by shooting at the creatures that get close. Dirk keeps going, pushing back against the tide of creatures as Todd gapes.

“Did you know he could do that?” Todd demands of Amanda.

“Didn’t you say he made a point of literally telling you that he could do this?”

“Yes, but, though, I didn’t know he _meant_ it, he told me he’d been trained as a _ninja_ by the CIA, Amanda, I can’t take every word that comes out of his mouth as gospel truth.”

“…are you having a crisis watching Dirk right now?”

“No, I don’t, shut up, you are.”

Dirk’s grinning widely, looking pleased as punch as he and Farah fight. His eyes are bright as he dances around, spinning the hilt of the blade in his hand a little.

“So is this a you’re an easily flabbergasted dipshit crisis or an experiencing a poorly timed moment of attraction crisis?”

Todd glares at Amanda. “I changed my mind, I don’t want to be siblings with you anymore.”

“I’m just saying, he’s also too cool for you.”

“ _Why are you always saying everyone’s out of my league?_ ”

“ _Because everybody is, obviously._ ”

 

“If you take that sword, it could be traced back to you, you know,” Todd tells Dirk, sitting next to him in the grass. “The police could find out that you were here.”

Dirk snorts, patting the sword next to him fondly. They’d managed to find a scabbard for it, tough dark red leather encasing the slim silver blade. “What are they going to do? Accuse me of plant murder? Besides, the color of the scabbard matches my jacket.”

They’re fair points, so Todd concedes with a nod. They’re out on a hill about fifteen minutes from the mansion. Farah and Amanda had returned to the agency offices, but Dirk had been drawn in by a hunch about the hill while he and Todd were going back, so they had climbed about halfway up and were now waiting for the sunset, which Dirk insisted he was fairly certain was important.

“So.”

“So which?”  
Todd gestures at the sword. “So when?”

“Oh, that. Cambridge fencing club. It’s not exactly the same, of course, foils are different, rules are different, but it certainly gives me an edge. That’s why I was so confused when I nicked Silas and he didn’t stop fighting, I sort of just assumed those were the rules for all swordfights. I’m rather grateful they hung a light sword up, I wouldn’t have done very well with a heavy one.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

Dirk looks a little smug. “ _You_ didn’t believe me when I told you I was a better swordfighter than that.”

“You tell me a _lot_ of crap, Dirk.”

“I tell you the truth! Mostly. With maybe a little embellishing.”

“Yeah? Those bars you’re banned from?”

“…it might have been shin-kicking of the children of the owners when they insulted me. But it was in a bar, and it was a fight, and I think it’s very odd that this happened _three times,_ so I firmly hold that it should count.”

“The arm wrestling match with Thor?”

“Well, okay, so he’d been drugged by the person I was investigating at the time, and he challenged me to arm wrestle, and I didn’t much _want_ to but I don’t know if you’ve been face to face with an insistent drugged Thunder God, but right before we started he passed out, and his arm flopped back, so I’m counting that, too.”

Todd snorts. “Of course you are.”

“And the thing about the monkey bars might have also been… not entirely truthful.”

Todd grins, shaking his head and looking down at the ground. They’re quiet for a minute.

“Dirk?”

“Mm?”

“Why did you keep telling me all that stuff?”

“Ah. Yes. Well. About that.”

Todd raises his eyebrows at him and waits.

“This life, it can be very… exciting,” Dirk says slowly, not looking at him. “But it’s dangerous, too, and exhausting, and it can just be… a lot. And it would make sense that someday the draw of that might get wearying for you, and you might want to… stop dealing with it. So I started thinking that, well, perhaps if you had _other_ reasons to want to be here, reasons to think I was impressive, then, well, maybe you’d hang around a little bit longer.”

Todd blinks, staring at him.

“You told me you could do a bunch of feats of strength and stuff because… you thought then I wouldn’t leave you?” The phrasing is a little wonky, and he winces internally.

“…it sounds stupider when you say it.”

Todd mulls it over.

“This life is hectic,” he finally tells him. “It was weird, at first, getting used to, the lack of normalcy was an adjustment. But I think it’s not a lack of normalcy, but maybe a different kind of normal. And it’s a kind of normal that I like. I like chasing shit all over hell’s half acre with you. You don’t need to try and sell yourself on me, Dirk. You just need to… keep being my friend. I’d still be here even if you weren’t all holistic-y or whatever. I like being around you.”

Dirk’s gone a shade of pink that’s distractingly agreeable. “Oh.”

Todd taps his fingers on his knee. “Yeah.”

“Well, then. I, er.” Dirk clears his throat. “I like being around you, too. You’re a… very nice person to be around.”

Todd feels himself blush a little as well. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They’re both quiet for another moment.

“Did you really think being adept at handling monkey bars would impress me?”

“There’s no call to be rude, Todd.”

Todd laughs. Dirk grins at him. The sun begins to set as the two of them watch.

“So, what’s supposed to happen? Do you have any idea?”

“Not really.” Dirk traces the hilt on the sword, then frowns at it. “The very end of this hilt looks like a prism.”

“Yeah?”

Dirk slowly stands, picking up the sword. Todd rises with him. Dirk grips the hilt with one hand and holds it out in front of him, leaving the circle at the end that does indeed look like a prism free. He turns around so their backs are to the sunset and holds it up high above his head. The prism catches the setting sunlight and shoots out a rainbow beam. The beam does not, however, go to the ground, but instead stops in mid-air, and begins building what looks like a set of keys like a 3-D printer, the color of a shimmering rainbow.

Dirk laughs a little breathlessly. He looks down at Todd and beams before returning his attention to the set of keys in wonder. 

Todd looks at Dirk instead, backlit by the sunset, cheeks a little flushed and eyes delightedly wide, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> So after she watched the newest episode, klaudiart on tumblr and I got to talking about the scissors/swordfight between Silas and Dirk, and I postulated that maybe Dirk's a good fencer and that's why he thought hitting Silas enough times meant he won, and it sort of spiraled from here. We charted pretty much the whole dialogue between Todd and Amanda while Dirk's swordfighting together.
> 
> I kept it short because this fic was more of a few concepts connected by than a thread than a giant sprawling thing like I tend to do for this fandom, but I may revisit some of the ideas here someday, because they entertained me.


End file.
